


Baby, it's cold outside

by Mishalocked24



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bittersweet, Bunker, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 10:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishalocked24/pseuds/Mishalocked24
Summary: A Christmas Tree. A Mistletoe. A song.From the story:Dean offers him his hand and Cas just stares at it confused.“Shall we?”Their eyes meet and Castiel takes it.They start to dance.





	Baby, it's cold outside

Dean is staring at the mistletoe, hanging from the ceiling with a transparent wire that keeps it floating in the air in the middle of the kitchen.

The radio is croaking old Christmas songs and he thins his lips when he sees Sam entering in the room with a string of unlit lights and a scotch roll that he holds with his teeth.

“Seriously?” Dean arches an eyebrow when Sam shakes his head and drops the sticky tape on the small table. Sighing, he takes the lights between his hands, stretching the wire and assessing its length. “We’re gonna turn the bunker into Santa’s house, won’t we?”

“Jack has never really spent a proper Christmas day since he was born. I don’t really want that he ends up like us, Dean.” Sam stares at him with pleading eyes and Dean finds himself incapable to move his gaze away.

His shoulders sag down, and he nods once.

“Ok, let’s rock these holidays.”

The blinding smile Sam gives him warms his heart.

 

There’s always been a reason of why he has always hated Christmas and one of this reason is the way the needles of the trees fall on the ground. And that happens as soon as they bring the fir inside.

Its leaves are well-pointed, Dean notices when he observes the final result that is the hard wood resting on a little cube of cement, covered by a blue towel that brushes the pavement.

“I’m not gonna decorate that thing.” Dean glares at Sam when he brings inside two big boxes with clinking trinkets, probably Christmas balls to hang on the branches.

“Fair enough.” Sam shrugs and Dean squints his eyes when he catches the small smirk that pulls at his lips. “Jack and I are going to do all the hard work. Don’t you worry, Dean,”  The smirk gets bigger and a shiver passes on his back when he notices a weird glint lighting his irises. “the tree will absolutely be of your approval.”

_Oh crap._

The first notes of ‘Let it snow’ flow inside the hall while Dean is sitting on one chair, with his chin resting on his arms and an annoyed frown on his face.

Sam and Jack have Christmas hats on, and they’re surrounding the giant fir near one of the walls, trying to mount the lights.

“Sam-“

“Yes, Jack?”

“Can we decorate the tree with those blue bows?”

Sam nods and hands him a transparent box, that Jack takes between his hands and starts to open.

“And with the red tambourines?”

“Why not?”

Sam makes an affirmative noise and crouches, bringing the package of the red decorations closer, leaving the wire of lights untouched on the ground.

“Guys,” Dean’s firm voice stops their snooping and the both of them raise their heads, staring at him with confusion in their eyes. “the lights _must be_ put on the tree _before_ the other decorations.”

Jack frowns and looks at the small blue bow on his palm.

“Can’t we put them after we’ve-“

Dean shakes his head.

“Absolutely no.”

Sam glares at him and gets up, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder, shielding him.

“Let the kid have his fun, Dean.”

Frank Sinatra’s voice continues to fill the noise in the bunker when Dean gives up and collapses again in his chair, trying to smother every small protest that could escape from his mouth.

When Jack beams and hands him a Christmas cookie in sign of peace, he takes it, crunching slightly when continue to observe the way they start to decorate the tree.

The first line is completed effortlessly, blue and silver decorations are alternated on each branch and Dean declares himself satisfied from his position.

It’s during the second line that everything is thrown into chaos.

It starts with two big sphere, one next the other.

Then the red tambourines arrive, and the color alternation is lost.

But what makes Dean really snap is the way Jack suddenly gets up, leaving a half-line empty, and takes the golden tree topper, standing on his tiptoes to try and put it without having decorated the rest of the tree.

Dean suddenly gets up and with two long strides reaches Sam and Jack, stopping them from continuing their poor work.

“Don’t do anything like this again. Ever.” They stare at him worried and Dean just shakes his head. “Now go away. Decorate the kitchen, decorate your bedrooms, do whatever you want, but for God’s sake don’t touch this tree ever again. I’ll take it from now.”

Sam and Jack just shrug then and taking a step forward they pass through a door.

Dean doesn’t notice the way Jack points at the mistletoe hanging and Sam just shrugs, taking him away.

He starts to remove all the decorations from the tree.

 

Cas finds Dean immersed in a deep study of the brilliance of two blue balls that he’s holding between his two hands.

He reaches him and put a hand on his shoulder, making him turn.

“What has happened here?” he gestures towards all the trinkets spread on the ground and with one look he questions Dean’s sanity when he puts the two balls between his hands.

“Which is shinier?”

“What?”

“Which ball is shinier?”

Cas stares at the two spheres and arches an eyebrow when he suddenly understands that Dean wants a real answer from him.

“I think-“ he gulps steadily and jumps when the radio croaks and changes song, transmitting a Christmas famous melody. “I think this one is brighter.” He gives him the sphere and drops the other into its box, taking a step behind.

“Don’t you dare go away. I need your help here, man.” Dean’s voice stops him and when Castiel turns again, he finds himself holding two Christmas threads without knowing how.

 

When Dean drops on the couch, tired but satisfied when he proudly watches the masterpiece he has turned into the tree, he stretches his muscles, softly smiling when Cas reaches him and hands him a glass with an amber liquid in it.

“Well, it turned out well.” Cas states, not moving his gaze away from the bright lights that illuminate the room.

“You saved yourself from the sight of what it was before, man.” Dean gulps the drink and gets up; the back of his hand brushes slightly against Cas’ trench coat. “Let’s say that ‘Extreme Makeover Home Edition’ would never, like ever, hire Sam and Jack into its society.”

Cas squints his eyes and thins his lips, not understanding the reference, but he chooses to ignore him and takes the glass from Dean, putting it aside on the table.

“Your hands are cold.” Dean complains and rubs his, trying to gather warmth.

“It’s cold outside.”

“Baby.”

“What?” Castiel asks confused, fixing his eyes on Dean’s and noticing the small smile that paints his lips.

“It’s a song. ‘Baby, it’s cold outside.’ It’s from the 40’s.” Dean simply answers, switching the radio off and immerging the room into a complete silence. “Maybe we should go to bed. It’s pretty late. I think that when Jack and Sam will wake up tomorrow, they’ll be pleased with how the tree has turned out.” He says, switching the lights off and only leaving the Christmas tree’s ones on.

“Could we listen to it?”

Dean stops his steps and stares at him without any expression.

“Right now?”

“I mean-“ Castiel gulps steadily and lowers his gaze when he feels the tips of his ear becoming redder. “I don’t sleep and I would really like to hear it, but-“ he meets his green eyes. “Never mind, Dean. Goodnight.”

His wrist is suddenly caught and Castiel’s eyelashes flicker against his cheeks.

“Wait here.”

Castiel’s heart thumps steadily against his ribcage when Dean returns moments later, putting his laptop on the table and starting the song with a flick on the mouse pad.

 

 _I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside_ _  
_

_I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside  
_

_This evening has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in  
_

_So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice_

 

Dean offers him his hand and Cas just stares at it confused.

“Shall we?”

Their eyes meet and Castiel takes it.

They start to dance.

Their bodies sway slowly, out of sync with the song, but they don’t care.

Dean’s hand is burning against Cas’ side, but what makes him shiver the most is when Dean rests his cheek against his, delicately swinging and breathing against his ear.

“Just relax, Cas.” He murmurs softly and Castiel shudders, closing his eyes incapable of stopping the flutter in his chest that makes his heart ache in need. “Relax.”

Cas rests his forehead against Dean’s chest and the hand that is holding his squeezes slightly his skin.

 

_I ought to say no, no, no - Mind if I move in closer?_

 

Dean stares into his eyes then, and Castiel’s gaze shift from his green irises to his lips, slightly apart.

That’s when Dean spins him and Cas loses his momentum for one single moment, until he slams against his chest.

His expressions is fond.

_So fond._

“That wasn’t fair.”

 

 _I really can't stay - Baby don't hold out_ _  
_

_Ah, but it's cold outside_

 

“Your hands aren’t cold anymore.” Dean states, swaying again and stopping for a brief moment his movements when Cas leans more against him.

“It’s warmer inside,” Cas’ breath is shallow with his next word. “ _Baby_.”

From Dean’s lips suddenly erupt a laugh and Cas can’t help himself and chuckles with him.

“You did not.”

“Yes, Dean. I did.”

Dean spins him around again, but now Cas is prepared when their chests collide again and their eyes meet.

 

 _You've really been grand - Thrill when you touch my hand_ _  
_

_Why don't you see - How can you do this thing to me?_

 

Their steps stop when they find themselves near the door, the mistletoes hanging over their heads.

“Cas-“

Dean looks deeply at him and Cas licks his lips, anticipation making him shiver.

 

_I really can't stay - Get over that hold out_

 

Cas’ hand tightens around Dean’s when he lowers and gets closer.

 

_Ah, but it's cold outside_

 

He can feel his breath against his mouth and he closes his eyes, waiting.

 

_Oh, baby, it's cold outside_

 

Castiel raises his neck, trying to reach for Dean.

He has goosebumps on his skin when he feels Dean’s breath against his mouth.

Yet the lights are flicked on and Dean suddenly moves away, staring at Sam in the distance.

“Goodnight, Cas.” He murmurs.

Then he takes a step behind and glances one last time at him, before leaving the room to go to his bedroom.

Cas doesn’t miss the bitter smile painted on his face when he turns into the corridor.

Yet he swears he can feel the ghost touch of a mouth against his dry lips.

 

_Oh, baby, it's cold outside_


End file.
